How Chef Thai Changthong Turned His Mom’s Home Cooking Into Austin’s Most Sought-After Street Food: From Food Stand to Brick-and-mortar Store in Less Than a Year – Food

When chef Thai Changthong first opened his food stall P Thai’s Khao Man Gai in July 2023 at the Hong Kong Supermarket, he set out to do one thing: Thai Chinese-style chicken rice, and to do it exceptionally well.

“It’s basically a three-player game. You never throw anything away,” Changthong says. “It’s really genius, whoever invented that.”

The broth is prepared. The chicken is cooked in the broth, which strengthens it. The rice is cooked in the broth. “And the skin (of the chicken) is fried,” he adds.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

“Everything becomes food, it’s so delicious!”

Austinites felt the same way. Changthong’s booth was packed. Eager eaters and a who’s who of chefs and industry professionals from across the country gathered to sample the booth’s signature dish of poached Thai chicken, perfectly cooked chicken fat rice, a homemade ginger-chili sauce fermented with beans, crisp cucumbers, and a side of hot, clean chicken consommé.

Inspired by the Thai Chinese cuisine his mother prepared for him and backed by decades of experience, P Thai’s has been a success.

Then P Thai’s first location, Hong Kong Supermarket, announced its closure after nearly 20 years, and on the last Saturday of January 2024, P Thai served its last khao man gai there.

P Thai’s signature dish, Khao Man Gai (Photo by John Anderson)

Origin story

Changthong’s culinary pedigree carries weight, with stints in Austin’s top kitchens, where he earned the respect of his peers – the accomplished chef’s chef.

Originally from Bangkok, he moved to North Hollywood when he was very young and started working in the industry as a dishwasher. Around age 15, he moved to Austin and picked cilantro and made basic satay preparations at Anderson, one of the city’s first Thai restaurants, which closed in 2016.

He was a teppanyaki chef for a time at a Benihana-style steakhouse. He said he would sometimes get up from the table after being knocked unconscious and then go into the kitchen to carve up boxes of whole chickens, still slightly frozen, with a ramekin of hot water in front of him to keep his fingers from going completely numb. With a big smile and a laugh, he would boast that he could carve a whole chicken in less than 20 seconds.

In 2004, he was hired by Tyson Cole at Uchi, moving to Uchiko after it opened in 2010. He then helped open SPIN Modern Thai (2012-2013) in Cedar Park with Ek Timrek, an Uchi alumnus and one of the founders of East Side King.

Changthong helped Paul Qui open the short-lived Qui in what is now the Ramen Tatsu-ya space on East Sixth. He then opened Thai-Kun with Qui, who is now a silent partner. The original catering trailer was first parked at Wonderland, and eventually landed at Whisler’s. A brick-and-mortar Thai-Kun on Rock Rose opened two years later, in 2016. Two more Thai-Kun locations followed—at Tributary Food Hall and Drinkery in Denver (opened in 2019, now closed) and Thai-Kun POST Market in Houston (opened in 2021). Changthong said Thai-Kun’s initial success gave him the confidence to venture in a more singular, less Western-familiar direction with his cuisine, those early seedlings of P Thai’s sprouting. And, of course, some of Austin’s most acclaimed chefs were already big fans.

“Honestly, he makes some of the best Thai food in the country, and I would tell anyone who comes from New York or Los Angeles that,” said his longtime partner Qui.

“It’s not even close.”

Boat Noodle and Pork Tongue Salad (Photo by John Anderson)

Comedor chef and owner Philip Speer worked with Changthong at Uchi and Uchiko. “I always knew Thai was an amazing cook at Uchi because when he cooked a family meal, it was the best meal ever,” he said, referring to the meal prepared for staff before service at some restaurants because it’s too crowded and hectic to take breaks to eat.

Speer said he told Changthong at the time that he understood that “culturally, you can just eat a handful of Thai chilies, but the rest of us can’t! You have to have a little moderation.”

“And to this day, that’s kind of the running joke,” Speer said.

“Oh, it’s too hot, Philip, is it too hot?” He always tells me off about it.

“I won’t make it too spicy for Philip.”

Bring the heat

Some will say that offering a two-course menu at the outset is commercial suicide, but throughout Asia and the Asian diaspora, it is de rigueur. The offering is very limited, but what is offered is very well done.

Changthong went all-in on his concept, which he began working on before the pandemic. The original P Thai’s was both an homage to his mother and a confirmation that he could cook whatever he wanted. He likened the initiative to a game of chance, but the early positive reactions convinced him that the city was ready and that consumers were eager to educate themselves and, in turn, be educated by new foods.

Last year, we sat across from each other at one of the white laminate counters at P Thai’s stand during the break between the lunch and dinner rush. Two of a dozen or so seats snaking around the perimeter of his stand made up his corner of the Hong Kong supermarket. P Thai’s logo on the west wall—a Lego-like cartoon chicken holding a large cleaver embossed in red—is, one might imagine, a nod to his overall temperament: humble, hardworking, deeply funny, all his positive cosmic energy swirling around him like you’d just eaten a handful of Thai chilies.

Dried yellow paste smeared across his right forearm as he continually wiped the clean countertop with a neatly folded kitchen towel. We talked about his ethics and drive.

Changthong at P Thai’s pop-up booth inside Hong Kong Supermarket, January 2024 (Photo by John Anderson)

“I don’t know how to do it the American way,” Changthong told me. “I’m all for it.” passion not fashion.”

I asked him if there was any risk in focusing primarily on one dish at this booth. “If we’re going to do this, don’t touch my dish,” he said. “I think Austin is ready.”

“Don’t touch my heat” succinctly sums up what Changthong is all about: bringing that fire, literally and metaphorically.

“Let’s sell what we eat,” he said. “Let’s give them our culture.”

Family Meal Finds a New Home

Hong Kong’s P Thai’s supermarket opened less than a year ago, but Changthong’s passion for Thai Chinese food and his mother’s recipes has never faded. Changthong is part Chinese on his mother’s side, and it was she who pushed him in this direction. In May, he headed south to the former Vamonos! space at 4807 Airport.

Still in its first iteration, P Thai’s new Khao Man Gai & Noodles has unveiled the food stall’s original menu and added a handful of noodle dishes and appetizers. The spicy boat noodles in a five-spice pork broth is a dish you simply have to keep savoring, because it’s hot and never stops. It’s deliciously complex and rich, but not heavy, and like most of Changthong’s dishes, it’s simple, elegant, and layered. The pork tongue salad is also sublime.

The new P Thai’s currently offers counter service. Changthong knows that a traditional restaurant presents different challenges, but this isn’t his first rodeo.

Changthong with photos of her parents, inside P Thai’s new Khao Man Gai & Noodles at the airport (Photos by John Anderson)

“The Hong Kong supermarket allowed me to see if Austin was ready for this type of food,” Changthong said, reflecting on the journey. “For the new space, I’m expanding my menu and that will be my challenge.”

According to Changthong, the focus will remain on Thai Chinese street food – “dishes that will take you back to Yaowarat/Chinatown in Bangkok.”

Photos of his mother holding one of his dishes and his father transcribing his recipes wave you goodbye as you leave the dining room, a testament to Changthong’s family ethic and the sharing of it with the community he cooks for.

It makes you feel like you are at her table, and it’s a special thing.